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Being The Lone Ranger

Confession time… When I was growing up, I wanted to be “The Lone Ranger”. I had the hat. I had the mask. Interestingly enough, I didn’t have a “Tonto” but man I had some great adventures…

Alone.

Not to go all “your childhood defines you” here, but I think there is a lot to that. I have come to grips with the fact that my bent is to go it alone. For as much as I love community, connections, people and being social, if given my choice, I’m flying solo. Even when I go for a run, I prefer to be alone with my thoughts and my iPod. How sad is that? This isn’t a recommendation, it’s a confession of sorts.

For the second time in the last few weeks, I was surprised on a run to find a great friend also out for a run. Both times, we were able to join one another for a stretch of the journey. As it often happens, I was struggling physically on both of those runs. My thoughts were all about how bad I felt and how much I wanted to quit. Just then, out of nowhere, both friends appeared on the path. The run suddenly got better and the conversation erased thoughts of quitting. We were meant for life together and I am so quick to forget that.

Even when the conversations are short, choppy and interrupted by gasps for air, the journey is better when we share it together. We need prayer warriors in our lives. We need to be that for others. We need accountability. We need another perspective. We need someone to distract us from our own downward spiral sometimes. Batman had Robin. Charlie and Snoopy. Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto.